Love Me When We're Fighting
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: 5x19 - Barry can't sleep after his fight with Iris. He wonders if Iris can. Barry/Iris. One-shot.


**A/N:** Requested by an anon on tumblr. Special thanks to **smileyscorner04** who suggested the idea and **wanderer765** who got excited about it when I said I was going to write it! You guys are the best. : )

*****Many thanks also to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

*****I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

He'd known this would happen. He was no fortune teller, but he'd known it. Before they were legally bound to one another, before he proposed – both times –, before their first date, their first kiss, their first confession… He'd known one day there would be a fight neither of them could come back from.

And that's why he hadn't said those three little words in another light to bring her attention to how she felt.

Her not coming back to the loft that evening hadn't changed how he felt. He still felt justified. He still stood by every word he'd said. Nora couldn't be trusted, even if she was his – their – daughter. Part of him wanted to apologize, because he could see how it hurt Iris, but it somehow hurt more that they weren't on the same page when it came to the wretched Eobard Thawne. If Nora had gone to see Thawne only to get to the past and meet her father, that would be one thing. But she'd gone back to him repeatedly since then!

And Iris, Iris…

_"That doesn't bother you."_

_"No, it doesn't."_

She was too blinded by her love for her daughter to see what was right in front of her. Blaming him for being too emotional when she was doing the same thing. It hurt him to hurt her, but they'd been fighting fire with fire, neither one taking the time to understand the other.

One side was outraged, still trying to understand the betrayal of his flesh and blood. The other was outraged at the punishment that had been doled out. She understood, and she hated that she understood. So, she couldn't stay. She left.

He couldn't go after her and apologize, because – other than hurting her – he didn't regret a single thing he'd said. But damn, coming home to an empty, dark loft with no Iris in sight hurt like a knife to his back, like a vibrating hand to his heart, like a broken back from Zoom himself.

Even Thawne had blamed him for being reckless with his emotions, but he was right this time. And by the time everyone realized it, it would be too late. He could say he'd told them so, but what good would it do? They'd all be on the brink of death and the city would be headed for disaster. Again. By Thawne's hands. All because they'd refused to believe Barry Allen, the overemotional superhero.

It made him sick inside how no one could just _believe_ him for once, no matter the cost. Everyone always needed proof to back up his claims, and he always needed a whole goddamn flurry of sidekicks to get anything done because he was inadequate. It was Team Flash, not The Flash. And normally that didn't bother him, but right now it did. He couldn't save squat without their help, without Cisco and Iris on the coms telling him where to go, without Killer Frost, Vibe, and Elongated Man there to give him extra aid.

Damn it, none of this bothered him usually. But right now, everything felt wrong and targeted at him, blamed on him. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. And all of it, _all of it_ culminated in the fact that he'd pushed Iris away. Again. And he couldn't get her back unless he pulled a grand gesture and completely took back everything he'd said.

And that was just one thing he couldn't do.

But that didn't mean he didn't miss her.

It didn't mean he didn't want her in his arms.

And it sure as hell didn't mean he didn't want to rewind to before this day ever happened, before Sherloque pulled the rug out from under them and Nora, weak and trembling, had been forced to admit what she'd done. It had ripped her parents apart and left the team wondering what the future held. It made him wonder what the future held too. Iris was the glue that held Team Flash together, and he…well, he was just the poster boy, the man who took the credit, who could run faster than the speed of sound. But to what end?

He hated himself. He hated this whole situation. He hated Thawne most of all. But he wouldn't take any of it back. He _couldn't_.

At midnight he shot up in bed, suddenly uncomfortably sweating, and groaned when he found Iris' side of the bed still pristine, unused, and a reminder to him that his horrible nightmare was a reality. Nora had betrayed them all by working with Thawne, believing him to be worthy of taking advice, falling deliberately into whatever trap he'd laid out…and Iris siding with her.

He pulled back the sheets and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. His face fell into his hands as he let the sleep dust from his eyes rub into the skin, some falling in flakes to the carpet. He glanced over at the alarm clock and was tempted to throw it across the room.

"The hell, Iris," he muttered and got to his feet, walking with purpose to the bathroom to wash his face, maybe take a hot shower.

Maybe then he could sleep. Maybe then he wouldn't wake up every twenty minutes with the reminder that Iris was gone and there was no guarantee she'd be coming back.

Drying his face off with a towel, he leaned back against the wall and scoffed inwardly.

Iris was probably sleeping like a baby, thrilled she didn't have to sleep next to the problematic basket case of emotions that she called a husband. Maybe she didn't think they'd come back from this either. Maybe her search history before she went to bed included the words 'divorce papers' or 'how to divorce in 24 hours'.

_No._

He shook his head and switched off the light, heading back into the bedroom. He glared at the half made-up bed and was tempted to pull the sheets free just to spite the fact that she wasn't there.

"Get a hold of yourself, Allen."

He ran his hand over his face, feeling the beginning of stubble along his jaw line. Another thing he'd forgotten to do today because of…everything.

_Damn it, can't you do anything right?_

Well, he could do one thing. He could see if Iris was in fact sleeping like a baby. He could get confirmation of his fear or somehow feel not alone in this turmoil he was experiencing.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he flashed into some clothes and ran over to the West house, where Iris had undoubtedly gone. He didn't know if Iris had told her dad anything – and if she had, whose side Joe was on – so he deliberately avoided the first floor and Joe's room upstairs. He went straight to Iris' old bedroom instead. He found it empty.

He went to his old bedroom instead, which had transformed into Wally's in recent years, and found Iris sleeping there, and found his heart breaking in another way. He saw her wedding and engagement rings on a nightstand and his eyes widened, terrified. Tears welled in his eyes.

_This is not the end. It's not the end. It's just a fight. You'll get through this._

But would they? Iris seemed unsure. Just like she'd been doubting them after finding out why he proposed the first time.

He shook himself out of it, resolved not to start bawling on the roof outside his old room.

Suddenly, Iris moved, and he ducked, trying not to fall to a second broken back. When he peeked back in, he saw her move again, and _again_.

_Huh?_

She groaned and tossed the blankets off her, heading for the hallway and then the bathroom at the end of it.

"Damn you, Barry Allen."

His jaw dropped, and then he smiled a little. She was having as much trouble sleeping as he was.

He shouldn't wish this upon her, but it soothed him a little to know that she still carried fond feelings for him somewhere beneath all the anger – or at least her body was so used to sleeping next to his that it didn't do so well without it.

Iris came storming back into the room with a recently washed face, which made Barry grin even more.

"I love you, Barry, but you can be one selfish, emotional, son of a-"

He heard the fear leap into her throat when she sensed him outside her window. Or when she sensed something. He didn't want to scare her, so he slowly slid down the side of the house, caught Joe's slanted eye from the living room window, and dashed off before questions could be asked.

He went for a run – a long one. It started raining. He got soaked.

But before going back to the loft, he returned to his old room at the West house and stood in the hall outside his door. Iris was sleeping now. He didn't know for how long or if she would wake up at the slightest movement like before, but she was sleeping.

He sped to beside the bed, watched her for a while, marveling in her beauty, and then unclenched her fingers holding the blanket in a tight grip so he could put her wedding ring and engagement ring back on.

"I love you, Iris," he whispered, all malice gone, just love and adoration as he leaned down, careful not to drip on her, and pressed a brief kiss to her closed lips. "We'll get through this."

Her eyelashes rustled slightly, and he panicked, taking off like a bolt of lightning headed home.

He didn't see Iris' eyes open a millisecond before he was gone, leaving his flash in the bedroom where she slept just a second long enough for her to spot it. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Oh, Barry."

She propped herself up and looked onto the nightstand, just to make sure her rings were still there. When she didn't see them, she panicked, turning on the light and looking under and around the bed, between the covers, anywhere. Her heart was stuck in her throat at the possibility that she'd actually lost the symbols of Barry's love for her just because she'd been angry when she laid down.

She didn't regret a thing she'd said earlier, and she was still mad as hell. She didn't know how they could come back from this unless Barry Allen came after her on his hands and knees, took everything he said back, and apologized a million times. Not to mention apologized to Nora, and did everything Iris wanted him to do for at least three weeks before she _considered_ coming home.

And maybe that wouldn't even be enough. Maybe he'd gone too far.

Her heart sank at the prospect, but then it beat joyously as she registered the metal on her ring finger and looked down to see both rings sitting there prettily, shining in the moonlight of her open window.

She laughed – actually laughed – out loud and lay back in bed, pressing a kiss to each ring and then vaguely remembering a pressure to her lips not long ago…maybe from someone else's lips…maybe…

She sighed, closed her eyes, and let a few tears wet her eyelashes.

"I love you, too," she whispered shakily, then turned on her side and felt the worst pain. "How do we get through this?"


End file.
